


a helping hand.

by niamhies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Hermione is a Good Friend, hogwarts missing moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29432646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamhies/pseuds/niamhies
Summary: It's Sirius Black's birthday, but he's not here to celebrate it.A Hogwarts missing moment in which Harry receives an unexpected letter, and Hermione is there to comfort him.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	a helping hand.

It wasn’t until the morning edition of The Daily Prophet came flying in and landed in front of Harry’s pumpkin juice that he realised what day it was, and the significance of it. He didn’t register that he had been staring at the tiny date at the top of the front page until an unfamiliar owl pecked his finger affectionately and he looked up to be greeted with a concerned pair of eyes.

“Anyone we know?” Hermione asked him, noticing Harry’s change in demeanour. It must have worried her, because it was the first thing she had said to him all morning – apart from a curt ‘hello’ when she found him waiting for her in the common room. That was all it took for Harry to realise she didn’t want to discuss the night before and after years of people pushing themselves into his own business, he knew the last thing Hermione wanted was for him to ask if she was okay.   
But she had misinterpreted the meaning of Harry’s expression. The only thing on the front page was a follow-up of the Goblin disappearances that were occurring all around Britain, and Harry thought the birthday of his dead Godfather trumped that on his list of importance’s.

“Oh, er – No. Just another Goblin disappearance, here. Take a look.” said Harry, and he passed the newspaper over to her. Hermione took it, despite the sceptical look on her face, and began flicking through it.

Trying to distract himself from falling into a pit of his thoughts, Harry glanced down at the owl and saw it had a letter attached to their leg.   
Strange, Harry thought. He rarely ever got mail since… 

He untied it and the owl flew off, probably back to the Owlery, and Harry made a mental reminder to visit Hedwig later when he had a free period. He looked at the writing on the back which had his named written neatly across it. The writing was familiar, but he couldn’t put a name on it. So, without much else thought, he opened the envelope and took out the piece of parchment inside. 

Dear Harry,  
I hope Sixth Year is treating you well, you will have quite a bit of spare time now, I assume. Mrs Weasley told me your OWL results, I hope you don’t mind, and I couldn’t be prouder, though I didn’t expect any less from you – you always were the best at Defence in your year when I was teaching there. They rarely give Outstanding’s for that subject; I can only imagine what you performed for them in that exam for them to give you it. She also told me that you and Ron managed to get into Potions, with Professor Slughorn accepting E’s, and I couldn’t help but noticing that with the subjects you’re taking that you could have the makings of an Auror.   
But on a different note, you must be confused as to why I’m writing to you. If this letter reaches you on November 3rd, then you may have noticed that it would have been Sirius’s birthday today. I’ve been trying to write this letter for some time now, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to put my thoughts onto paper. I know how much you held Sirius in high regards and just how much you meant to him, Harry. You really were the most important person in his life. And I understand that no one will ever be able to replace him, trust me, I know, and I don’t intend on trying to – but if you should ever need anyone to talk to, about school, your parents, anything, then please don’t hesitate to write to me.   
Your father was never much of a writer, he would go the whole summer without replying to our letters then turn up at our doorsteps in the middle of the night, asking if we wanted to come over to his for a game of Wizard’s Chess. But, from experience, I know that you differ greatly from James and not to expect the same mannerisms he had.  
Should you want to write back, Hedwig will know where to find me. Mrs Weasley had been trying to get me to stay over at The Burrow for Christmas, so perhaps I’ll see you there?  
Give my best to Ron, Hermione and Ginny.  
Sincerely,   
Remus Lupin.  
PS: Professor McGonagall wrote to me telling me that you made Quidditch Captain. Well done, Harry. Your parents would be so proud. 

Harry read the letter over twice before he could register the gesture. He blinked forcefully when he felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in his stomach and his head swirled with supressed emotions that were fighting to brim from his eyes. He remembered back to the beginning of the year when he desperately wished that Remus would write to him, to fill in the gaping hole that Sirius’s death left. And it seemed that, for once in his life, his wishes had been answered. Harry grasped the letter and folded it carefully back into the envelope. He would take some time out of his study period after break to write a letter in response. He wanted to know all about what Remus was up to – he knew he was going on secret Order missions for Dumbledore, though he knew Remus would never tell him outright where he was going and why. But, most of all, he wanted to know Remus. Not just as his parents friend, but as his own person. He had helped Harry a great deal in his third year, and he felt that he had never truly repaid the man for taking the time out of his day to ensure Harry's safety.

“Harry?” 

He glanced up, meeting the concerned eyes of Hermione. She had been trying to read the letter from across the table but hadn’t been able to, he assumed. 

“It was a letter from Remus.” He told her, seeing no reason to lie. She would know if he was, anyway.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and set the newspaper down. “Really? What for?” 

Harry bit his lip. He didn’t want to burden her with his depressive thoughts, that up until a few moments ago, he thought he was alone in sharing. She was clearly upset over the Ron and Lavender situation – and he had a clue as to why, though didn’t feel it was his place to voice it, - and he didn’t want to add to her problems by dumping his complex and over-bearing trauma on her. But the look on Hermione’s face gave him the impression that she knew something was up, as she always did, and that she wasn’t going to give up until she knew. She had always been like that, and though annoying at the time, Harry was incredibly grateful he had such a caring friend. 

“It would have been Sirius’s birthday today.” He said quietly, looking away. 

There was a small pause, in which he could tell Hermione was doing some quick thinking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulders relaxing.

“Oh, Harry…” 

And then, Hermione’s hand covered his own, rubbing the scarred lettering on the back of his with her thumb. Harry almost moved his hand underneath the table, not used to such physical contact, but instead his body leaned into it, Hermione’s warmth comforting to him. 

When he was sure he wasn’t going to cry in front of the Great Hall, Harry glanced back up at her, her eyes now full of tears and guilt. After years of learning, she knew not to say anything, not unless he did first. Otherwise, the words would just go straight over his head. So she stayed quiet, as silent tears fell from her face and down the collar of her school shirt. Who knew that after last night, she actually had more tears to spare?

“I miss him so much, Hermione.” Harry whispered, for only her ears. Thankfully, the nearest people to them were Ginny and Dean about five metres down the bench. Harry didn’t even know where Ron was, he had left before Harry had woken up in the morning, or maybe he never even came back after his escapades last night. 

“I know.” Hermione replied, just as quiet. She looked down at her half eaten porridge and then at Harry’s barely touched toast before an idea came to her. Before she could second guess her thought, she spoke it aloud. “Do you want to skip first? We both have a free period after that and then we can go to third, if you’re up to it.” 

Harry had never been so startled. Hermione Granger, willingly skipping a lesson? It was unheard of. He remembered back to their third year when she almost had a full on breakdown when she realised she had missed Charms because she was so overloaded with work. And now, that same Hermione Granger wanted to skive class?

Hermione must have noticed his shock, because a slight smile bloomed on her face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You haven’t been drinking have you? Or been poisoned?” asked Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “It’s just History of Magic. I doubt Professor Binns will even notice we’re absent.”

Harry nearly choked on his own tongue. After recollecting himself, he slowly nodded, still mildly suspicious, but agreeing, nonetheless. “Okay.” He said quietly before picking up his bag. 

As he made his way down the Hall, he caught the eyes of Ginny Weasley, who looked away almost immediately, as though she hadn’t been watching him ever since he came in. Trying to ignore the backflips his stomach liked to do these days, Harry’s brain reminded him of why Hermione was willing to truant during a lesson, and a feeling of guilt settled inside him, reminding him of everything he had done wrong on that fateful night, and all he could’ve done to prevent that fact that his Godfather was not here to celebrate his birthday with him. He despised his thoughts on occasions. Whenever his mind even pondered a moment of fleeting happiness, his thoughts were always there to remind him of every reason why he shouldn't be happy.

Harry met Hermione at the doors of the Great Hall and they walked side by side down the quiet hallways. He looked down at her, felt a huge wave of gratitude for her, and slipped his hand into hers. She looked up at him, smiling lightly, and he knew she knew what he meant by the gesture.

It wasn’t romantic. It never had been and never would be. They were best friends, and this was what friends did. They comforted each other during their darkest days, and Harry had no shortage of those. He knew Sirius meant a great deal to Hermione as well, but he also knew that was not the only reason why she was willing to miss A History of Magic and why she was allowing him to guide her towards the kitchens where she would spend most of her time complaining about the hierarchy of their government. He didn’t say it, he didn’t have to. For now, they could be each other’s comfort, as Harry thought of the right response that Remus deserved whilst Hermione busied herself with trying to help the house elves bake their cookies that they asked for, as to distract herself from the boy she would have to face sooner or later.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, i hope you enjoyed! just wanted to let you all know that i don't support jk rowling or her transphobic views. it such a sad thing that someone who created such a beautiful story can have so much hate in their heart.
> 
> if you have any scenarios that you would like me to write, then feel free to drop a comment! if you have any criticisms too, i'm open to opinions.


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